


this world is gonna break your heart

by convenientmisfires



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3526940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convenientmisfires/pseuds/convenientmisfires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s no way he’s letting her walk into this war without him at her side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this world is gonna break your heart

**Author's Note:**

> I've missed these two for over two weeks now, so I wrote a thing. It picks up after 2x13 and leads up to before they appear in 2x16. Special thanks to Brittany for being my fave human and also a damn good beta; honestly, I wouldn't get anything written without this angel. Title is from Wicked Game by Raign which I have not stopped listening to for 5 days.

It hadn’t taken much convincing for Abby to head back to Camp Jaha with the first caravan. The grounder healer was confident that they could handle any more wounded found in the wreckage. Taking a quick assessment of the wounded above ground, it was easily determined that there was little for Abby to do there.

 

It’s nearly dawn by the time they reach the gates of the camp, but the hours had passed in a blur. As Sinclair and the others carry Marcus into medical, Abby marches alongside the stretcher, a determined manner to her gait, only the shaking in her hands giving her away. As Abby moves to follow Jackson to prepare for surgery, he turns to stop her, placing his hands gently but firmly on her shoulders.

 

“Abby,” he pauses, and it looks like the words in his mouth are difficult for him to deliver. “Abby, you can’t do this surgery.”

 

“What? Jackson, I’m fine.” She clenches her hands into tight fists to hide the near constant tremble, but Jackson sees right through it.

 

“Abby, no.” He looks her in the eye, “We both know why you can’t.”

 

She looks shocked. She’s barely begun to process what had been happening between herself and Marcus, let alone thought that it was noticeable to anyone else.

 

“I can handle this, Abby. I won’t let him die.”

 

He leaves her there, stunned, as he walks away to scrub in and keep his promise. Abby lets one of the younger nurses look over her shoulder, her eyes tracking the movement across the room, her mind in a fog and Jackson’s words ringing in her ears. When the nurse finishes with her and a curtain has blocked Marcus from her view, she isn’t exactly sure where to go. She settles on moving just outside the room and into the adjoining tent, not daring to go farther should something happen, and not being able to remain inside, feeling so close, and so useless.

 

She begins to pace the length of the tent, time trickling by achingly slow where it had passed quickly before. She wrings her hands, twisting her ring around her finger as her feet carry her back and forth across the room, almost without thinking about it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Raven enters the back of the medical tent to find a pacing Abby wringing her hands.

 

“Hey,” Raven’s voice is soft, trying to be comforting. She perches herself on a gurney off to the side as Abby continues to pace, her speed slower now.

 

“I heard about Kane.” Raven’s eyes track Abby, and she seems to deflate at the sound of his name, her steps faltering before she continues.

 

“You saved his life, Abby,” she says, trying to offer some kind of solace. She’s seen her this way before, she know’s that Abby only resorts to pacing when she feels helpless, scared even.

 

“I didn’t,” she starts. “He’s not--” her words seem to get stuck in her throat as she tries to explain.

 

“It’s not over yet. He’s--” she trails off again, shaking her head, apparently unable to speak about him directly. She settles with, “Jackson is doing the surgery.”

 

It’s the only explanation Raven needs for her current state.

 

“I’m sure he’s in good hands,” she says still trying to break through Abby’s nerves, trying to comfort her. She nods sharply at Raven’s words, threatening to wear a path into the ground as she continues to move in a line.

 

Raven isn’t sure what else to say, so she takes a moment to observe Abby’s appearance-- she’s got some minor cuts on her face, and her knuckles are white from where she’s twisting her hands. (Wick had seen the caravan that brought them back enter the camp, watched as Abby had never left Kane’s side as they carried him into medical.

 

“You’re friends with Chancellor Griffin right?” he’d asked her when he’d come back inside.

 

“I guess you could say that, yeah. Why? What happened?” He’d told her about the look on Abby’s face and of the whispers he’d heard about leg injuries and collapsed buildings. With that she’d set off to find her, a mixture of relief and concern flowing through her veins.)

 

Now, as she watches Abby, more vulnerable than she’s ever seen her, she doesn’t know what to say. She can’t find the words to fix it, to make it all better. When Abby’s pacing brings her near enough, Raven reaches out, gently wrapping her fingers around her wrist.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Raven’s hands are warm and her touch is soft and it’s enough to bring her to a halt. Abby feels her tug slightly at her wrist, pulling her toward the gurney and urging her to join her on it.

 

“Come on,” Raven says, helping Abby up next to her.

 

As she settles beside her, Abby lets Raven take her hand and hold it in her lap, her grip firm and comforting.

 

“I’ll wait with you.”

 

Abby closes her eyes and for a few moments silence falls between them.

 

“Thank you,” Abby whispers as she rests her head against Raven’s shoulder, the younger woman squeezing her hand in response. Together they wait, Raven’s fingers occasionally trailing calmingly through Abby’s hair.

 

When she hears someone coming out of medical an hour or so later, Abby’s sits straight up, her fingers tightening around Raven’s hand.  A moment later, Jackson walks through the opening, a smile on his face.

 

“Surgery went fine. He’ll be sore, but he’s going to be alright, Abby.” She nearly crumples with relief.

 

Raven moves off the gurney, and Abby moves to do the same, her muscles stiff.

 

“I’ve gotta go get the last few tone generators ready. Wick and I are leaving tonight for the dam.”

 

Raven shifts in front of Abby, almost timid, as if she isn’t sure what else to say. Abby moves quickly, pulling the girl into her arms.

 

“Thank you, Raven.” She holds her tightly, Raven smiling softly as she returns the embrace.  

 

“May we meet again,” Raven whispers into Abby’s hair before pulling back and moving to exit the tent. Abby nods, watching her go, smiling slightly, her eyes glistening before she turns back to Jackson.

 

Quickly and quietly, Abby follows Jackson back into medical. Marcus is laying on the far bed, asleep, but in far better condition than he’d been in when she’d left. Jackson walks away to go attend to other patients, giving Abby some space. She drags a chair next to his bed and sits down heavily, exhaustion overwhelming her now that the fear and adrenaline have gone.

 

She settles in the chair, wordlessly taking his hand in both of hers. Her left hand slides down to rest on his forearm as she discreetly presses a soft kiss to the knuckles of his right hand.  

 

“I’ll be right here, Marcus,” she whispers against his skin before leaning forward to rest her head on the gurney next to his leg. Her eyes fall shut as the last two days catch up with her, her hands still wrapped around his as she drifts off to sleep.  

 

 

* * *

 

 

When he comes to she’s the first thing he sees. He smiles at her sleeping form, squeezing the hand that holds his own.

 

“Abby,” he whispers. Not certain he wants to wake her, but unable to stop himself, shuddering deeply as he breathes in a sigh of relief. She’s okay, we’re alive, we’re going to be okay.

 

She stirs at the sound of his voice, her tired smile reaching her eyes as she looks up to meet his.

 

“Hi,” she breathes her thumb tracing circles over the back of his hand.

 

“Hi,” he smiles back at her.

 

Her eyes shift down his body to the injury that put him here.

 

“Jackson fixed your leg,” she says, her voice trembling so slightly he almost doesn’t catch it. “You’re going to be fine.”

 

His eyelids are heavy and he’s still exhausted, but he smiles at her words. He takes in her dishevelled appearance and gathers that she probably hasn’t slept properly since before he left for Tondc. If he’s honest with himself, none of them have slept properly since the day they landed here, but she still needs to get some rest somewhere besides an uncomfortable chair at his bedside.

 

“Abby.” He pauses, smiling softly at her. “You should get some sleep.”

 

“Marcus, I’m fine. There’s work to do and I--” she protests, but he cuts her off.

 

“You don’t have to leave, just...” He looks around medical. It’s mostly calm, the wounded that had come back with the first caravan having already been treated. “Just for a few hours, if I have to sleep, you should, too. You can use one of the beds here.” He nods toward the cot next to his.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Abby looks hesitant at first, but she knows he’s right. She gets up, reluctantly letting go of his hand, she pushes the curtain that divides the beds all the way back and pulls the one on the other side the cot he’s indicated all the way out, blocking them off from the rest of medical.

 

She gets into the bed, exhaustion creeping back over her. She holds his tired gaze as long as she can.

 

“I’ll be right here,” she tells him again as her eyes fall shut.

 

The last thing she hears before drifting off to sleep is his whispered response.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, Abby.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When he wakes a few hours later, she’s no longer next to him, but his eyes find her several feet away talking to Jackson. The boy is dressed for the journey to Mount Weather--he’d been recruited to the group that would help save the grounders turned reapers. Marcus overhears their conversation, catches something about Abby going back to Tondc. It doesn’t hit him at first, still coming out of the fog of sleep. When he realizes she plans to go right back to the place where they’d both nearly died, anger and frustration flood his system and he moves to get up, wincing as the pressure brings a stinging pain to his injured leg.

 

“Abby, no,” he says it from across the room, slowly making his way toward them, careful not to undo all the work Jackson did to repair his leg.

 

“Marcus, what are you doing? Get back in bed.” She looks worried and commanding all at once.

 

He ignores her, looking at Jackson instead.

 

“Jackson, thank you for stitching me up.” He reaches out to shake the boy’s hand. “Would you give me a moment alone with Doctor Griffin?”

 

“Sure.” He nods, grasping Kane’s hand before moving to hug Abby. “I better get going anyway.”

 

He squeezes Abby’s hand as he lets her go.

 

“May we meet again,” she says, confidently.

 

“May we meet again.” Jackson smiles at them both before leaving them alone in the middle of medical.

 

Abby turns back to Marcus, urging him back towards a gurney, her concern for his leg evident in her every move.

 

“Abby, you’re not going back there.” He starts again, sitting on the gurney when they reach it, but refusing to lie back down.

 

“Marcus, I have to. There are still people there, they need help. I can’t--” she pauses, biting her lip, looking at him pleadingly. “I can’t just stay here and do nothing while Clarke marches into that mountain, Marcus.”

 

The desperation on her face is reflected in his own. He understands what she means: she needs to throw herself into this war and make herself as useful as possible. He feels the same kind of frustration, angry that his leg has kept him from marching alongside Clarke and the other soldiers.

 

“Then I’m going with you.”

 

“Marcus, no. You just had major surgery, you aren’t up for traveling that far on your leg.”

 

“Then get me ready, because I’m coming with you. I don’t care if I have to get Wick to make me a leg brace and come hobbling out after you, I’m going.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Abby looks at him, her eyes pleading. She wants to tell him to stay here, to stay where it’s safe, where she won’t lose him. But she sees the same look reflected back at her, there’s no way he’s letting her walk into this war without him at her side.

 

She resigns, because she knows if she doesn’t they’ll either spend the rest of the day arguing about it, or he’ll hurt himself trying to stop her.

 

“Fine, but you have to do exactly as I tell you. I’m not going to let you tear your stitches open and bleed out in the middle of the woods just because you think you’re invincible.”

 

He nods, his mouth quirking upward slightly at her acquiescence, likely relieved as she is that he won’t have to waste energy fighting her on this. She moves quickly gathering gause and fresh bandages to wrap his thigh. Working carefully and efficiently, Abby has his leg as secure as she can manage to make it, and has added extra supplies to her pack specifically for him. She leaves for a moment and returns with a crutch, determined to keep as much weight off of his injured leg as possible.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They leave for Tondc in the middle of the night, along with a considerable amount of the guard and a few civilians recruited for various units in the strike against Mount Weather. The journey is long, and more than once Marcus reaches for Abby in the darkness. She guides him over twisting roots and treacherous ground, his hand grasping hers tightly.

 

It’s daybreak by the time they reach the remnants of Tondc. They say their goodbyes and may we meet agains to those that continue on to the mountain and get to work in the wreckage they had climbed out of only a day ago. As per Abby’s instructions to “keep watch, and keep off his leg”, Marcus situates himself on the high ground, his eyes skirting the perimeter of the destroyed village.

 

Throughout the day, he watches Abby work, tending to the people pulled from the rubble, her own eyes continuously falling on him as she moves to help the innocent victims of the missile that had almost taken his life.

 

The sun is beginning to set by the time Abby makes her way out of the ruins to join him where he’s been keeping watch. As she sits down beside him, he offers her a canteen and something to eat from his pack. They sit in silence as the sun sinks lower on the horizon.

 

“We saved twenty-six,” she says, quietly, her eyes downcast as she shakes her head.

 

“That’s good, Abby.” Marcus tries to comfort her, his hand reaching out to rest on her knee.

 

“Twenty-six out of nearly three hundred. There were children here, Marcus...” She trails off, her voice thick with emotion.

 

“And you saved as many of them as you could.” His fingers tighten on her knee, her hand comes to rest on top of his own. She nods, looking away into the distance.

 

“They offered to let us stay tonight.” Her gaze is still focused on the horizon as she shifts the conversation. “I think we should. We can head back in the morning.”

 

He nods, mostly to himself since she’s still not looking at him.

 

“Okay.”

 

Getting up from the ground, he struggles slightly with his leg but gets his feet beneath him and goes to set up a place for them to sleep, leaving her to her thoughts as an eerie twilight descends upon the burning village.

 

He approaches the area that the grounders have set up as a temporary living space and is greeted by their healer, Nyko. Marcus had watched him work tirelessly with Abby throughout the day. Nyko indicates a small tent at the edge of the camp, and repeats the offer he’d extended to Abby earlier for them to stay the night.

 

“It’s not much, but your journey is long, and walking alone in these woods can be perilous, particularly at night.”

 

Marcus nods and offers his hand to Nyko, “we’ll stay through dawn. Thank you, this is more than enough.”

 

Nyko shakes Marcus’ hand and looks toward Abby still sitting several yards away.  

 

“Your help here will not be forgotten.”

 

“Likewise,” Marcus replies, his mouth quirking upwards slightly in a sad smile. As Nyko leaves to look after his people, Marcus makes his way back over to Abby.

 

When he reaches her, she looks up at him. Her eyes are red, but her expression is calm. He offers her a hand, bringing her to her feet.

 

“They’ve given us a tent for the night.”

 

Abby nods, leaning down to lift her pack over her shoulder and grabs his as well. As they walk back to the tent, she slips her hand into his, her thumb brushing gently against his knuckles.

 

They enter the tent in a comfortable silence, and Abby sets their packs by the entry way. Quietly and efficiently, they set about unrolling and spreading out the sleeping bag Abby had packed. She pulls a blanket from her pack, as well, and sets it on the corner of the open sleeping bag. Abby toes out of her boots, setting them neatly by their packs. When she turns back to Marcus he looks hesitant, but he doesn’t say anything as she kneels and unlaces his boots and pulls them from his feet.

 

There’s no awkwardness as they lie down beside each other on the makeshift pallette, and Abby pulls the blanket over them as they get situated. As the darkness of night envelopes the tent, she slides her hand into the space between them, tangling her fingers with his, listening to his slow steady breathing as she drifts to sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As the first tendrils of light creep over the horizon a few hours later, Abby wakes with her hand still in his. Their hands are now trapped between them as they’d both turned in the night, the fingers of her other hand curled into the front his shirt, and his free arm wrapped protectively around her back. She leans her forehead against his chest and squeezes his hand before she moves to get up.

 

“Don’t get up yet,” she whispers as he moves to follow her. He looks at her questioningly as she slides her feet back into her boots and moves to her pack, pulling out the extra bandages she had brought for his leg.

 

“I want to change these before we leave.” She sits back down next to him and gives him a look that tells him they’re changing his bandages before they go, whether he likes it or not.

 

“Of course,” he replies, quietly, already unbuttoning and pushing down his pants so that she can reach his injury.

 

Silence fills the air again as Abby quietly unwraps the old bandage and checks over the wound for any signs of new damage or excessive stress from the previous day. She re-wraps his leg securely, looking up to meet his eyes as she finishes and he pulls his pants back into place.

 

“It looks good, you should be fine for the walk home. But, I want you to stay off it as much as possible when we’re back, alright?”

 

He gives her a crooked smile and a “Whatever you say, Doc,” chuckling quietly as she rolls her eyes and moves to help him with his boots. Standing, she pulls him with her to his feet and they quickly go about packing up.

 

Upon exiting the tent, they find many of the grounders have awoken and begun moving about.  They make it a point to find Nyko and thank him for their generosity. He shakes both their hands and wishes them a safe journey home.

 

They set off into the woods and Marcus reaches out to take her hand, holding it firmly under the pretense of needing her to steady him. He doesn’t let go once they’re on even ground.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours into their journey, Abby hears a twig snap and the hint of whispered voices, and then feels Marcus quickly pull her behind him. For a moment, everything seems to slow down, before being thrown into fast forward.

 

The mountain men appear out of nowhere, descending upon them in a flurry of guns and commands. Marcus’ grip tightens on her arm, pulling her tighter against him as the mountain men surround them. She notes behind them they’ve already got about five other prisoners, handcuffed with thick black bags over their heads. Abby turns, pressing her back against Marcus’.

 

“What is this?” She questions, defiant for someone so out manned and out gunned.

 

“We’re gonna need you to come with us, Chancellor.” The tone with which the man spits out her title moves her to take a step forward.

 

“We’re not going anywh--” the rest of her sentence dies in her mouth as the back of a heavy hand strikes the side of jaw. She grimaces at the metalic taste of blood on her tongue, and hears Marcus’ crutch fall to the ground as he turns around to pull her back against him. His eyes move quickly between Abby’s lip and the man who’d struck her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Before Marcus can move to retaliate, he’s brought to his knees by a swift kick to the back of his legs.

 

“Don’t touch him!” She shouts even as they pull her back away from him, thrashing against their hands she manages to break the nose of one of the men trying to hold her down. Marcus is pushing himself back up from the ground when he sees one of them land a blow just under Abby’s left eye.

 

“Get your hands off of her.” He scrambles to his feet as best he can, the pain in his leg stinging from the force with which he’d fallen. Shifting tactics as more of the men move to cuff him and add him to their pile of hostages, he speaks directly to Abby, still resisting, though her movements are slower.

 

“Abby,” he winces as the metal of the handcuffs bites into his wrist. “Abby, don’t--Abby, we’re out numbered.”

 

He tries in vain to get her to stop struggling--they’ll only hit her again and harder, the more fight she puts up. Marcus sees what’s about to happen, jerking against the chain linking his him to the rest of the hostages, shouting her name as the butt of a rifle connects heavily with the side of her face. The blow subdues her enough that they are able to cuff her wrists and chain her up next to him.

 

As they cover his head and the world goes dark, he focuses on the sound of her breathing. He leans his forehead against her shoulder, and whispers in her ear.

 

“We’re gonna be okay.”

 

As someone yanks on the chain, jerking them all forward into an ominous walk in a direction he’s certain they don’t want to go, he just hopes he’s right.

 

 


End file.
